Combat the Storm
by LazyKid24
Summary: Pacific Rim AU. After living in fear of the Kaiju, Sam and Lara decide to take up arms and join the PPDC as Jaeger pilots. As they endure the rigorous training, they begin to not only learn more about themselves, but each other.


Shout out to mynamestooordinaryforthis for editing this for me. She deserves a medal.

The dim glow of the overhead lights begin to flicker, the anxious murmurs fall silent, and when the lights give way, the world is still. It is impossible to see anything, but Sam can feel Lara's grip squeezing uncomfortably around her shoulders. Her breathing—once steadied after the frantic sprint to the shelter— picks up again and Sam can feel her hot breath on the nape of her neck. She suspects the shaking is coming from Lara's hands but it's hard to tell when everyone is pressed so close together. For Lara's sake, she pretends not to notice but places a hand over hers nonetheless.

The ceiling begins to shake and the sounds of warfare seep in from the surface. As the murmurs start up again, Lara's grip tightens painfully.

"Sam," Lara whispers shakily, "how much longer?"

Sam had not really thought about it until that moment, but this was Lara's first Kaiju encounter. A rock settles in the pit of her stomach.

"Not much longer." She lies. Uncertainty is the only constant in Kaiju attacks. Who knows how much longer they'll will be down here. It's possible they may never leave. Will they ever see light again? Will Tokyo even exist when they leave?

Sam wraps her arms around her Lara's waist and buries her face in the nape of her neck and Lara's shaking intensifies now that Sam is holding her so tightly.

"Knowing your time estimates with showers and schoolwork, I probably shouldn't take that literally." Lara whispers and Sam can't help but chuckle.

They don't say anything more, just firmly hold onto each other as they try and fail to ignore the sounds of the apocalypse thirty feet above.

One hour and two minutes in, she runs through the PPDC evacuation procedure in her head for the fifty-seventh time. _Jaeger interception should've occurred thirty-five minutes ago. _She vocalizes her observation but Sam says nothing.

One hour and seven minutes, Jaeger interception of the Kaiju commences.

One hour and seventeen minutes later, the surface is quiet once again.

Two hours.

Three hours.

Four.

Lara feels herself falling asleep on Sam's shoulder when the doors open. Blind, disoriented, and beyond exhausted, Lara feels herself moving despite not consciously deciding to do so. Stairs seem impossible on sore legs so they navigate the stairs like newborn fawn, falling over each other, gripping the railing for dear life.

When the stairs end and the tunnel begins, Sam's hand grips firmly to Lara's as she leads the way to the surface, tugging ever so slightly to continue moving at a brisk pace.

Lara needs to see. She needs to witness it for herself.

When they reach the surface, her breath catches in her throat. For a moment, denial takes hold and Lara outright refuses to believe this where she was four hours ago. An enormous crescent carves its way up the street and deep into the heart of the city. Freshly ground dirt is visible underneath the ruptured, jagged concrete. What is left of the high rises lay in steaming piles of rubble and twisted metal.

"Lara…" Sam is still holding Lara's hand when she looks at her. She is wearing an expression so uncharacteristically intense, panic jumps from her stomach to her throat and for a moment Lara loses herself.

"What is it Sam?" The words spill from her lips before she can stop them and she could punch herself in the face for asking such a stupid question.

"You're getting that look again." Sam says as she curls around Lara's arm. She raises a brow. "That look when you start thinking about your parents," she says so softly, it barely comes out as a whisper.

Staring for a moment, Lara is not quite sure how to reply. She wasn't thinking about her parents, not directly at least. World-renowned Jaeger engineers and pilots, lost at sea during a Kaiju attack off the coast of Chile. What would they have done, she wonders idly.

"There it is again." Sam says, a little louder and lighter as she reaches out and strokes the creases forming between her eyebrows smooth.

Lara leans into the touch as her eyes close. "It's hard not to think of them, you know? So close to…" she gestures weakly at the wreckage, "everything."

Sam says nothing, and Lara ventures a sidelong glance. That intense expression has made a reappearance and Lara could swear something is changing in Sam in that moment, standing upon the shattered rubble and metallic skeleton of Tokyo.

"Do you ever wonder what it's like?" Sam asks after a long silence and the question is so unanticipated, Lara has to ask her to clarify. "Up there. Piloting the Jaeger."

Far off in the horizon, stained in metallic blue, Echo Saber towers over the crushed remains of the Kaiju, venting steam so thick it unites the earth and sky in a white haze.

"Of course I've always wondered. My parents would talk about piloting Jaegers like dotting parents would talk about their kids." Lara says with a small smile.

"So you've felt it, right? That yearning at the pit of your stomach. Like you'd do almost anything to be in the pilot seat." Sam turns toward Lara, "Like you can't go on living life in your own little insignificant way until you're looking through the eyes of a Jaeger."

"Sam…" Lara knows where this conversation is going and she is almost terrified by the elation that engulfs every nerve in her body. Sam smiles.

"I wonder if the Jaeger program needs a couple more idiots to pilot some giant fighting robots…"

It turns out, they are in short supply of idiots to pilot the giant fighting robots but not for the obvious reason (the obvious reason being _you are fighting a fucking extraterrestrial being in the middle of the ocean in a giant robot_ _with the lives of millions in your hands). _No, the shortage is a result of a much more technical aspect of Jaeger piloting.

Finding drift compatible applicants is about as probable as predicting where lightening will strike. So, it's not too surprising that the recruitment office in London takes two twenty-something college grads seriously when they ask to apply for the Jaeger program (at least, it isn't surprising for the staff. Sam and Lara, on the other hand, feel grossly underqualified and outclassed by the pairs of hardened soldiers that fill the seats in the waiting room.)

It takes about ten minutes to fill out the application because, other than personal and medical information, the three pages concerning military experience goes unfilled. Already, they feel as though coming here was a huge mistake and they contemplate abandoning the entire venture and save what little dignity they have before it is too late. But, it is too late, because they are called at the same time, into the screening room.

The officer glances dully between the pair and already looks convinced that this interview will take no more than five minutes. He starts the rehearsed section of the interview, explaining the contractual agreements that come along with signing the bottom of the application and Sam practically falls asleep by the way he's droning. Lara elbows her (_hard_) and she shoots up in her seat, hastily smoothing out her top in an attempt to calm herself. Lara runs a hand down her face.

Lieutenant Truman—as his name turns out to be—then reads questions off the paper pinned to his clipboard. Overall, the interview takes about fifteen minutes and they're sent on their way.

"We'll contact you." And they think that's all it takes to get rejected.

They couldn't be more wrong. After two agonizing days of mopping, they get a call back.

And another.

And another.

And before they have a chance to let it all sink in, they are on a plane to Anchorage, Alaska. Their bags and cadet profiles in hand, the words: DRIFT COMPATIBLE stamped neatly in red ink on the front cover. Graduating from UCL doesn't even compare to the pride welling from their chests when they board the plane and sit among four other cadets. Sam has to smother the grin that threatens to burst across her face and look at Lara. She has the same giddy expression shamelessly plastered on her face. They feel like they've already made it.

The seemingly endless plane ride takes an entire day and by the time they touch down in Anchorage, they feel as if they are in another dimension. Disorientated and dead-beat tired, they are herded off the plane and immediately lined up on the tarmac.

Staff Sergeant Grey prowls about the cadets with sharp eyes and precise movements, shouting at the top of his lungs to the point of veins popping out along his neck. He may be screaming something along the lines of an introduction but all Sam and Lara could think about how much shit they've got themselves into.

Oh, how it is sinking in now, they can feel it in the way their muscles clench and shiver from the cold and the waythe staff sergeant's intensity seeps down to the bone. Their journey begins here, on the frigid Alaskan tarmac with screaming and shouting and nothing but each other to hold onto.

Lara always found that it is not the first day of a work out that is the hardest; the second day is where spirits are broken. The first day is breaking ground, orientating yourself with your surroundings, finding a niche and setting a pace. At the end of the first day, your body screams for rest, demands it.

The second day denies it of this luxury completely. Because now, you know what's coming and what it entails. Psychologically, you're defeating yourself with this knowledge. Sore, shaking muscles betray your demands and now you're failing physically too. No matter how much you tell yourself "just keep moving", that small inkling in the back of your mind is whispering every excuse imaginable to just_ stop._

Memories of the day before trickle into Lara's subconscious until she's remembering yesterday's fourteen-hour workout, half-hour lunch, half-hour dinner, three hour lecture, and five miserable hours of sleep.

_They're trying to break you. _

She thinks as she digs her boots into the freshly fallen snow as their platoon begins to run laps again.

_They're trying to break you but that can't let that happen._

She focuses on the crunching of the snow beneath her boot, her breath appearing as puffs of white fog before her. She fights to find anything to hold onto, to take her mind off the weakness in her legs and the burning in her lungs.

"Quit running so fast," Lara whips her head to her left, "you're making me look bad." The words, muttered in shaky, weak spurts, are more than comforting and bring her back down.

Sam is right beside her looking more tired than Lara has ever seen her (she's certain she looks the same way). Her hair is plastered to her face, covered in sweat, and she's desperately panting just to catch her breath. Yet, she's keeping up, and Lara can't imagine how exhausted she must be considering Sam doesn't have the same advantages she does.

Sam didn't grow up with an ex-marine as her only family who's idea of a fun consists of a forty pound pack and a five day hike through a mountain range that has seen more avalanches than people.

Lara can't help but admire Sam's resilience and, in different circumstances, she would probably smile and joke about it, but she was too exhausted for banter. She figures Sam must feel the same way but she knows that girl could be on her deathbed and still have energy to tease. No matter, Sam's playful habits are infectious, and Lara manages a slight curve of the lips as a poor excuse of a smile. They march on, Lara careful to keep Sam by her side the entire time.

Running laps, drills, and obstacles courses on lack of sleep and sore muscles initially seems to be the height of physical torture. In most cases, it probably would be, but in most cases the soldiers probably weren't training to protect humanity from inter-dimensional beings.

After three days of constant drills, the cadets are introduced to hell on earth—the kwoon combat room. The concept is simple: fourteen hours of intense training in hand-to-hand combat with the intention of pushing the cadets to their limits, physically and mentally. To form an unbreakable bond with your partner, learning their movements, their strengths and weaknesses, complimenting and challenging each other, excelling not only as a team, but as an individual, or so they say.

The first day in the Kwoon room sets the precedent for the days to come.

As far as combat goes, Lara knows what Roth was able to teach on weekends. Nevertheless, still more than Sam manages living a life of luxury with her father, the Japan's premier media mogul.

They are given a crash course on Greco Roman wrestling and a _lot _of bruises. It's almost hilarious how grossly inept the pair is at sparring. Lara lost count how many times Sam straight up dropped her onto the mat, and Sam lays groaning on the floor every time Lara miscalculates and throws her harder than necessary (a side-effect of learning how to fight from a man who gave more combat lessons in drunken bar brawls than in an actual controlled environment). It would be hilarious and Sam is having difficulty keeping her laughter at how ridiculous they look compared to the other, more experienced cadets. However, the constant jeering and screams from the instructors that roam the mat is a constant reminder to the gravity of the situation.

It only becomes evident when, as the day is nearing its end, one of the cadets is thrown to the floor and doesn't attempt to get up. He lays there, staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, sweat dripping, and eyes squeezed shut. His partner is leaning over him, hands clutching his knees, as he whispers hastily at him.

"Hennessey, scrape your brother off the mat and keep going. We're not done here." The instructor barks as he begins to impatiently pace in front of the pair.

"Sergeant, I don't think he can go on." His brother says in a hoarse voice.

"Either he gets up in ten seconds or you two can get the hell off of this island."

Still silence. Hennessey stares empathetically at his brother who dares not stare back. He knows he's pulling them both down but he can't do a thing about it. The seconds drag by.

"The plane leaves at 500 hours. I suggest you catch it or you'll be swimming your way back home."

And that's how every cadet on the mat realizes how quickly their run can be over.

"Lara, you know I love you," Sam says from her top bunk, barely audible to Lara at the bottom, "and you know I would do anything for you."

"What do you want Sam." Lara croaks.

"Cut off my limbs. Just… do me a favor and cut them all off." Lara chuckles and groans as she rolls onto her side. "I think I can fashion a knife out of my toothbrush if I try hard enough." She continues.

"Or you could save me the trouble and just stretch properly before and after you work out like I told you."

Sam whines as she shifts onto her stomach to stare at Lara.

"Lara, I can barely move when I wake up. How do you expect me to get out of bed and stretch of all things?"

Lara lifts a brow. "You're training fourteen hours a day, enduring a crash course on a plethora of martial arts and you're complaining about _stretching in the morning?" _

"Sweetie, you know I _thrive _off of the night, mornings might as well be mythical. I didn't even know 4:30 _existed _until two weeks ago. I'm surprised I even manage to get dressed without falling flat on my face."

"Well to be fair, you more than make up for it with the amount of face-falling you do in the kwoon room." Lara says wryly.

"Hell, it's practically an honor to be thrown around by future Jaeger pilot extraordinaire Lara Croft." She grins with crinkled eyes and a flash of teeth. Lara laughs and rolls onto her back again, flinching at the pain that jolts up her back.

Sam stares apologetically, "how's your back?"

"Still tender. You really did a number on me you know." Lara states, trying to keep it light, but she knows she fails when the sparkle in her eyes fades.

"I'm sorry. I just," Sam sighed, "I really don't know what I'm doing. I just… I don't want to hurt you, Lara." Lara absentmindedly runs her fingers through her matted, chocolate hair.

"It's okay Sam, really."

"What if something bad happens Lara? What if I really hurt you?"

"Sam, when I was working late shifts at the Nine Bells, I had been in more fights than I can remember, was charged at with a broken bottle—"

"Lara."

"—twice, and chased down a drunken college student through the London rain because he stole some woman's purse. I have been punched, cut, kicked, and bit by more people than I can remember. Some nights when you were sleeping, I'd be holed up in the bathroom picking shards of glass out of my skin with tweezers—"

"_Lara." _

"I know, I know, I should've woke you up, I should've told you, and I'm sorry. But, the point I'm driving at is there is nothing you can do to hurt me that hasn't already been done by some drunk bastard. At least here I know that we fight and we hurt each other to get stronger. It's the only way to get stronger. So don't worry about it, okay?"

Lara doesn't make eye contact but Sam understands completely and for a moment, she feels like she's back in university, feeling all sentimental and crap like they usually get right around bedtime. Her hand rolls off the top bunk and forms a fist. Lara grins as she lifts her fist to meet Sam's.

"To piloting some giant fucking robots?"

"Yeah," she says, "to piloting some giant fucking robots."

The evening before evaluation day is spent in the kwoon room. At this point in basic training, the officers graciously allow the cadets free roam in the kwoon room and all the teams take advantage of it.

After three hours of interchanging disciplines, Sam and Lara take refuge in the corner, casually watching the others and sipping water.

"You're lunge has significantly improved from the flailing you were doing two weeks ago." Lara says. Sam scoffs.

"Not all of us can be the definition of British stereotype you know." She says with a smile. "Where exactly did you learn to fence again?"

Lara flinches.

"…Boarding school."

Sam laughs.

"Shut it, you were there too you know."

"Yeah, but while you were busy studying to be a Kaiju expert extraordinaire, I was busy trying to have fun and hook up with dudes."

"Oh god, I can't imagine how many guys you've had it with already."

"You won't have to imagine much longer if we pass this test." Sam grins and winks.

"God help me ignore every thought in your perverted little mind."

"Well, you know what they say: _the drift is silence, _and all. Although it'd probably be pretty difficult ignoring all of your best friend's memories of screaming org—"

"_Stop_!" Lara buries her face in her hands and Sam loses it, doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"Oh man, I can't wait to see what is going on in that pretty little head of yours. You're about as difficult to read as a vacuum cleaner manual in Korean." Sam says, grinning.

"And you are an open book. It's a wonder why we're drift compatible in the first place."

"Well, let's just say you are the most predictable enigma I've ever met, Croft." Sam says with a nudge. Lara raises a brow and stares at Sam for a moment, who looks to be the epitome of ease.

It's such a stark contrast from eight years ago when Lara could hear her groaning in her sleep, the nightmares keeping her from rest. The nightmares are still there, they both know it, but refuse to discuss it, refuse to ask. Because it is the Kaiju that haunt them at night and keep them from sleep. The Kaiju that have taken from them more than they could imagine. The memories that lead them here in the first place.

"There you go again," Sam sighs, "I wonder if once I finally drift with you, if I'll start staring off into space all the time too."

"Oh, sorry." Lara says lamely and turns her attention to the water bottle in her hands that has magically become more interesting than the measured stare her friend is giving her. They stay silent for a while, each stuck in their own train of thought.

"They say this test is not about how strong you are or how much you know the material. It's all about compatibility, synchronizing with your partner, predicting their movements. Power-with not power-over, all that junk." Sam pauses. "Do you think we're what they're looking for?"

It's a simple enough question but it brings about an unfortunately familiar sensation. Lara feels her stomach clench and twist, and all of a sudden it's like she's in her first year of university and she's absolutely terrified that all of the effort she has put into this venture is all for not and she's only going to achieve as much as she has in that moment and anything else is just wishful thinking and god, ,she should just quit now while she's ahead and… and…

Sam is there as she always has been. They're not touching or even looking at each other, but Lara can _feel _her presence radiating from her left. It's no longer about just being there for each other like it was in university and all the times before. It's about devoting yourself completely to each other. To let someone into your head. Trusting them completely. Becoming their half and their whole. And Lara can't imagine that person being anyone other than Sam. The answer comes easy.

"Of course, Sam. Why wouldn't we be?"

They pass with flying colors and no bruises.

It should be a celebration, a feeling of release, but stage two starts before they can even catch their breath.

Eight more weeks.


End file.
